Come Back To Me
by TutorGirlml
Summary: A romancedrama story featuring Morgan and Garcia and continuing from Don't Take Me For Granted
1. Chapter 1

(This is a sort of follow-up to "Don't Take Me For Granted" and therefore is Morgan/Garcia-centric. There's not really a case in this one, but hopefully that won't keep people from being interested and reading. I meant to start on a sequel of sorts sooner, but the right idea took a while to present itself, and I've been really short of time to get it down on paper. But anyway, here it is and I'd love to know if you're still interested in this little drama I've got going on in my head 

This takes place after the first episode of season three roughly, when we didn't know what exactly was going to happen with Gideon, and I was still rolling around what I thought would happen in my mind.

Of course, I don't own the show or any of these lovely characters, and I can only wish that there would be a real Morgan and Garcia relationship to match their chemistry on the show.)

Chapter One

November 30th

It had been a long day, and he was tired. Bone-weary, discouraged, and possibly even just a little disgusted with the way things were going. It had been a rough week, perfectly capping a hellish month, and Derek Morgan was almost to the point of wondering how he and his five teammates and friends had managing to keep plodding along.

_'Mostly because we feel like we have to,' _he answered himself with swift realization almost as soon as his mind posed the question. _'Because we've taken on beating back what darkness we can as a responsibility, and none of us are willing to stop even if right now we all want to.'_

Nearly two months had passed since Gideon…well, two months had passed without Gideon in their midst; encouraging them, mentoring, healing, helping, and offering his sage advice and insight. A suitable replacement hadn't been found – they were still functioning as a team of six and Morgan didn't see that changing any time soon. Gideon wasn't someone easily compensated for or equaled.

And then there was the fact that the higher-ups were gunning for Hotch. Like they needed that turmoil on top of everything else. They wanted to call Hotch reckless, say that he'd lost control of his team, when nothing could be further from the truth. Hotch's leadership was all that was keeping things under control; all that was holding them together and making it possible to keep getting their jobs done. Without him, the BAU would have fallen apart two months ago when they lost Gideon – or any day since then for that matter. If the brass wanted to blame Hotch for not choosing Gideon's successor, or any other number of false charges they wanted to lay at his feet, they could, there was no way he any of the rest of the team could stop them, but if they ousted Hotch, they were asking to see their best profiling team crumble beyond repair.

With a sigh, he rubbed a weary hand over his eyes and stood, turning off the desk lamp and vowing to leave the rest of the never-ending paperwork he'd been attempting to wade through for another time. He was ready to go find Penelope and get the hell out of Dodge.

He snagged his jacket off the back of the desk chair he'd vacated, remembering the chill wind from when he had entered the Bureau offices that morning, and knowing snow had been predicted for the evening.

The bullpen was mostly quiet. He'd noticed Emily leaving out of the corner of his eye some twenty minutes ago. She'd looked exhausted, with bags under her pretty, but incredibly solemn, dark eyes. He hoped she found better sleep tonight than he had been getting lately.

He gave Reid a nod, seeing the young genius was still hunched over his desk with a focus and concentration that made stopping for the night seem needless. Morgan had noticed that Reid had started staying later and later more often ever since he'd lost his mentor. Morgan knew that Reid felt like he was in the FBI because of Gideon drafting him and bringing him along. He'd looked up to the man in every aspect – not that they all hadn't – but Morgan also realized that for Reid it was more than that. Gideon was the true father figure he'd had in his life, and he loved the older man as any son would love their father. He had tried, several times, to talk to Reid about it, to check on him, or try to cheer him up and get him to come out somewhere with he and Garcia to blow off some steam. But Reid had made it very clear that this was something he didn't want to – or couldn't – talk about yet.

Well, that wasn't something he could fix tonight. He was beat, and for now, he was going to worry about taking care of himself and that beautiful tech kitten he now called his girlfriend. Maybe tomorrow he'd see if she had managed to get anything out of their young teammate. He knew that Reid sometimes wandered down to sit with her in her computer haven to take a break, or perhaps just because her presence cheered or comforted him.

Morgan smiled warmly, only he knew how amazing her comfort could truly be, he thought, heat running through his veins as he tapped lightly on her office door, letting her know he was there. She hadn't said that it frightened her in so many words, but after her abduction and the ordeal with her stalker, Morgan no longer tried to playfully sneak up and startle her as he'd used to do. It simply wasn't funny to see her jump in surprise now that he'd seen her really and truly terrified. It was no longer even something he could contemplate, to imagine being that afraid for her again.

She swung around in her swivel chair, grinning broadly as she turned from the computer to see her gorgeous boyfriend smiling at her happily as he leaned against the doorframe. She'd never thought she would be able to call him hers.

"Ready to pack it up for the night, Mama?" he asked easily, as he crossed the room to lean down and press a quick kiss to her forehead.

"You betcha, just let me shut this last search down, Profiler Man," she answered, giving him a wink as she turned back around.

He chuckled good-naturedly at her, tugging a long, blond corkscrew curl gently and then rubbing her shoulders with his large, muscular hands, hoping to help speed her along. Suddenly, he couldn't stop wanting to touch her, and he knew exactly what he was going to do to get both of them relaxed once they got home.

She let out a little groan of pleasure at his touch, and his stomach lurched, wanting to take her right there on the floor when she made sounds like that. "Hold your horses, Stud Muffin," she teased, giggling, and, he realized proudly, obviously blushing.

Finally, the last program on her last "baby" had been shut down for the night, and she stood, grabbing her zebra-striped purse as she turned to really look into his face, lips pursed as she scrutinized his handsome features. She could see almost immediately that something was troubling him, but she knew him well enough to know that that had been the case for some time now. Dropping all pretenses of teasing, even flirtatious nicknames, she whispered, "What is it, Derek?" cupping the side of his face in her hand.

He leaned into her touch gratefully, loving that someone finally knew him deep down, almost enough to seemingly read his mind, and knew every secret, and loved him anyway. She wasn't going to accept the answer he was about to give her, but it was the only one he had. First, for a moment longer, he simply closed his eyes and savored the way her caress had already made him feel better. "Nothing, really," he responded at last. "Rough day, is all."

She arched an eyebrow at him, skeptical, debating whether or not to let it go for now or not. "Don't keep it from me, if you need to talk about it," she urged, realizing that she was treading thin ice. He didn't share his problems or emotions often, and she felt privileged that he came to her when he needed comfort, even if he couldn't express what was wrong. Yet, sometimes when she pressed, and he eventually spilled, she could tell it took a weight off his shoulders, so she was certainly going to try.

He shook his head as if to ward her off, signal that he couldn't now, not yet, and she sighed, not forgetting it, but giving him room to handle it on his own…for now. Morgan saw her look and hated making her feel shut out, but he honestly didn't know what to say, or how to put what was troubling him into words. Instead, he wrapped her up in his arms, and began to kiss her neck, trailing his lips down along her collarbone, until he heard her breathing go ragged and her head seemed to loll over on his shoulder, clearing a path for his tongue and teeth to have their way with her.

Smiling against her skin, Morgan made his voice rumble the way he knew gave her the shivers when he spoke lowly in her ear. "I need something else from you right now, way more than I need to talk. I think it'll make us both feel a whole lot better."

To her credit, Penelope Garcia caught on quick, and she didn't waste time forming much of a comeback, she just grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door saying, "Well, then, let's get out of here!"


	2. Chapter 2

(Hey, it's good to know that I've still got some readers and reviewers out there. Thanks a bunch for brightening my day with your comments! Here's the next chapter.)

Come Back To Me

Chapter Two

When they reached the car, she handed over the keys with a teasing wink, but real trust sparkling in her eyes. Not just anyone got to drive Esther, but Morgan was one of the elite few that she trusted with her precious classic car.

He grinned cheekily, flashed his perfect white teeth and a deviously seductive look at her, took the keys and gave her a peck on the cheek. "You really do want some good lovin', don'tcha Goddess?"

She nodded, biting her lower lip with such an impish look of anticipation that for the second time in less than five minutes, he found himself wanting to take her right then and there, consequences be damned.

"Don't look at me like that, Pen," he warned, almost licking his lips as wild, enticing images went ricocheting through his mind, "unless you don't want to make it back to my place and would rather be rollin' in the backseat like a couple of horny teenagers."

She shrugged, trying to look nonchalant, but the blush spreading over her from the roots of her hair out, and the way her breathing sped up gave her away. "However you wanna do it, Studmuffin," she quipped.

With an almost feral growl in the back of his throat, he leaned down to clutch her to his body and kiss her thoroughly, tongue slipping past her lips until his desire was at least momentarily appeased. Then he pushed back away from her reluctantly, managing to say, "Nah, come on, get in the car. I wanna do this right. Let's get home and comfortable, 'cause I plan on taking my time."

She was already heading around to her side of the car and opening the door to get in. "You do know just what to say to make a girl's temperature rise, don't you Handsome?"

He was already in the driver's seat and turning the key in the ignition as he chuckled easily at her observation. "You know it, Baby Girl."

They drove a few minutes in comfortable quiet, both eager and concentrated on getting home before Derek broke the silence. "Seriously, Pen," he said, reaching to take her hand and twining their fingers together as both their hands rested on the gear shift. "You do need to know how glad I am to have you to go home to, or come home with. These last couple months would have been ten times worse without you there at night, when I was alone with my thoughts. I truly don't know what's made things so much harder lately. If I had anything I knew how to say, you'd be the first and only one I'd come to. You do know that, right?"

She smiled at him, nodding, at peace with his statement, and stroked his hand soothingly with her thumb as he spoke. As long as he wasn't keeping something in that he needed to get out. She knew now that he could keep a secret for the sake of his pride – no matter how painful the holding it in and not letting it heal had been. She'd been afraid that once they had all found out about his childhood and Carl Buford against his will they would lose him to his own unnecessary shame. When he had opened up to her again after a week or so of silent avoidance, she'd never been so grateful in her life, except for maybe when she'd finally found out that he felt the same way about her as she did him. "That's fine, my beautiful chocolate Adonis, as long as you know that I'm here to cheer you up when you are ready to talk." She smiled cheekily at him, letting him know there were no hard feelings and gave his hand one more comforting squeeze.

There was such peaceful comfort between them after that that nothing else was said between them as they drove until Garcia suddenly motioned urgently at a filling station coming up on their right. "Morgan, pull in here real quick and fill up the gas tank, it's almost empty."

He glanced at her, eyes showing joking impatience at the further delay to their planned activities once they reached their destination. "Do we really need to tonight?" he argued good-naturedly, but he did as asked when he saw how low the gas gauge was reading. It certainly wouldn't get them home and into bed any sooner if they ran out of gas and were stranded on the side of the road.

Pulling in, Morgan got out to pump the gas for her while she fished through her leopard print purse for the desired bills. Handing them through the window when he'd finished filling up, she thanked him and he jogged toward the brightly lit little station building.

As she watched him go, Penelope Garcia couldn't help thinking how blissfully it had turned out to be, having him in her life this way. To think that she'd gotten her chance with Derek still sometimes sent her head spinning. There'd been so many days she'd flirted with him playfully all through cases, thinking that that was all she'd ever have, and then crawled into bed alone at night and cried for how much more she wanted. She had never dreamed she'd get so lucky as to end up here. Once she'd wondered if any man would ever come along and look beneath the surface to see all she had to offer, and now, not just any man, but one so wonderful he seemed near perfect in her eyes, was there beside her and loving her in return. She snuggled deeper into the passenger seat with a smile on her face as she thought about it. Tonight, she'd make sure her gratitude and love got expressed fully in some creative ways…

While she sat in the car, thinking over all that, Morgan stepped into the convenience store and realized too late what he'd failed to notice from outside. It was a pity he'd been so focused on hurrying back to Penelope that he hadn't seen how oddly quiet and still the lot outside had been, or that no one had entered or exited the building in the whole time he'd been filling Esther up. His mind had gone off the job; his normally taut and razor-sharp senses relaxed for the night. It was too late once he found that he'd pushed through the glass doors and walked right into the middle of an armed robbery.


	3. Chapter 3

(Hey all, hope I didn't really disappoint everyone with the last chapter, thinking we were just going to have happy fluff and then BOOM all kinds of drama again. Anyway, here's the next installment. Thanks for reading and for your patience when real life keeps me from updating as quickly as I'd like. Sadly, neither Morgan nor any of the rest of them are mine, I'm just entertaining myself in their world for awhile…)

Come Back To Me

Chapter Three

The perps whipped around, startled and tense, at the sound of the bells on the door clanging, announcing someone's entry into the little gas station convenience store. Their guns were both trained on him in seconds, and Morgan immediately froze, cursing himself for not paying better attention to his surroundings.

One of the punks turned back to keep covering the other people who been unlucky enough to be in the little building, whom they had already herded over against the far wall. Morgan was glad to see that it wasn't a large group of hostages. One attendant, a cashier, and three late-night shoppers. But the second thief, looking wild-eyed, paranoid, and much too young and nervous to be doing what he was doing, kept his gun aimed right at Morgan's chest. "What're you doin' in here, man?" he spat out angrily.

Morgan raised his hands up, hoping to look placating, non-threatening; this one was much too twitchy for it to be wise to push him very far. "Nothin'," he assured the hood, "I just came in to pay for the gas fill-up."

"Well, now you're just gonna have to hang out a minute. Keep those hands where I can see 'em and get over here with everybody else." He gestured impatiently with his firearm to the spot where his partner had the others corralled, and Morgan began to move as he was directed, slowly and deliberately, so as not to set the guy off.

He didn't challenge the order at all, but his eyes never stopped studying his two sudden captors, already profiling. They were young, wearing jeans and baggy black hooded sweatshirts, carrying guns that he knew, odds on, were stolen. They weren't the type that got approved for sale to people just walking in off the street and looking like trouble the way these two did.

What stood out as odd and most troubling was the fact that neither had made any sort of attempt to disguise or cover their faces. Had they come in planning to kill everyone in the store as well as rob it? Or were they simply that stupid and careless? And why hadn't they taken the money and run? Why were they still hanging around? None of it boded well, and the best Derek could figure, the faster he could get them out of there, even with all the profits from the till, it was a lot better than it becoming the high stakes hostage situation it was swiftly turning into.

"So, why ain't you split yet?" Morgan asked, letting his accent and the cadence of his voice slip easily back into the way he'd talked as a teenager running that rough Chicago neighborhood. "You all managed to get the cash out the register, didn't ya?"

"You all done seen us," the one training his gun on Morgan answered, licking his lips nervously, eyes darting around the four close walls. "Gotta make sure you keep your mouths shut."

"I'd be beatin' it outta here, 'fore the next patrol rolls through," Morgan urged, though trying to sound like it didn't matter to him one way or the other, ignoring the awful feeling that spread through him at their answer. There was only one sure way to keep that many people quiet about something like this, and he figured these two hoods knew that as well as he did.

"Whadda you know about it?" the other robber asked, glancing away from the rest of his hostages, narrowing his eyes at Morgan suspiciously.

"I know you don't want caught," Morgan said simply, standing his ground.

"Well, I ain't gonna be ID'd neither," the man shot back. "Why don't you get on over here with everyone else? Think you're special?"

Morgan shook his head and strode over, knowing getting them angry would only make a bad situation worse. If he couldn't urge them out though, he didn't know another way of improving the present circumstances. And that worried him. He hated losing control, not being able to take direct action, but instead having to wait and be acted upon. It reminded him of being a kid with no choice and no way out again – of what had happened with Buford – and broke him into a silent cold sweat.

He _was going _to stop these punks and get the rest of these innocent bystanders out of this safely. Derek Morgan didn't fail on his word, and he had promised himself long ago; he wouldn't be a victim again.

Drawing in a tight, steadying breath, he tried to force himself to think, to come up with a plan. And that was when he remembered the cell in his pocket. There was a general 911 to the rest of the team programmed into his contacts list. It had been JJ's idea, over a year ago, after they'd nearly lost Reid in Georgia, to have some way for one of them to contact the others if they got in trouble. Without having to dial, or even say anything once it was answered, it would show up on all of the others' phones as them and as a '911' and it could be traced and the team could actually call 911 and speak to the operator with whatever information they had.

Reaching very slowly and carefully into his jacket pocket once the crooks were distracted conferring with each other over what to do, he managed to flip his cell open without taking it out, and push the button he hoped sight unseen was the one to bring up his contacts. The number he needed was the first one on the list, and praying he'd gotten it, Morgan hit send.

It was only after he'd done it, and was releasing a tiny breath of relief that at least someone had been alerted and help would soon be on its way, that he realized he would have sent the distress call to Penelope as well. She was sitting right outside in the car, and would be closest and he knew her too well to think she'd just sit tight and wait for the cavalry. Penelope Garcia, much as he loved her, was too much like him for her own good. She would only think that he was in danger and come barreling in here to help – effectively putting herself in peril.

'Garcia, don't do it,' began to silently pray over and over in his mind. 'Just call the police and wait for some back-up.' But he knew it wouldn't do any good. He couldn't see out the front windows from back along the wall where he was cornered now, but he didn't need to see her to know with almost complete certainty that she would be getting out of the car and crossing the parking lot to see what had happened. She'd been so focused on helping him that she wouldn't even worry about the possibility of getting herself hurt too. He cursed under his breath, wishing he'd though before sending out the S.O.S. That was two ridiculously bad decisions he'd made in one night.

Eyes straying over to the door, all he could do was hope he wouldn't see what he was afraid of seeing any second now. She was walking right into this mess and it was his fault. He'd pretty much pulled her in, and now he had no way of warning her to go back. And just like that, right before his eyes, like a nightmare he couldn't stop, she appeared on the sidewalk right outside the store.

She reached for the door handle, and began to step in. He could see her through the glass, beautifully oblivious to what might happen to her, only wanting to make sure he was okay.

Morgan couldn't help himself, he took a step forward, wanting to push her back out to safety, to at least be between her and them. But just then the bells on the door clanged again, announcing her entrance to everyone. "Pen!" he barked out, voice hoarse with fear for her. "Get out of here!"

Her eyes immediately jerked up to meet his and took in the whole scene before her. Morgan knew one gun was now surely trained on her too, and he could see that she'd frozen; eyes wide, all the color draining from her suddenly terrified face.

And in the next second, he saw the motion from the corner of his eye, as the second gunman, the considerably more volatile one, turned as well, swinging around to put the woman Derek loved within the sights of his gun.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to my faithful readers and reviewers! I love hearing your comments and encouragement. Hope you enjoy!

Of course neither "Criminal Minds" or any of its characters belong to me, as always.

Come Back to Me

Chapter Four

It was as though time ceased to move; seconds turned achingly to minutes that dragged into an eternity as everyone in that small tense gas station seemed turned to stone. No one moved, or spoke, or even breathed for what seemed like hours or even days.

Morgan was tensed, waiting to see what the two hoods would do. If either of them headed in Garcia's direction, he was going for them, whether or not he got shot for it. She wasn't going to be hurt again, not when he had any bit of power to stop it.

"Where'd you come from?" the one with the gun now trained at Garcia barked at her.

"She was in the car with me," Morgan spoke up when he saw how her eyes flicked to his in uncertainty. "We just stopped for some gas, remember?" He forced himself to keep his voice steady; to not let them see either he or Penelope as a threat – or they'd only get more desperate.

And then, suddenly, pealing out plainly through the night air and into the station where their little group stood, came the sound of police sirens. Morgan closed his eyes for a second on the heart-stopping sense of disappointment. They just had to come in sirens blaring, bells and whistles going on full blast. If that didn't set these two off, then it would be a pure and simple miracle.

The one who by now seemed to have completely focused in on Garcia, suddenly radiated an anger he didn't even appear to know what to do with. "You call the cops, lady?" he spat, voice murderous in tone. The jumpy nervousness he had acted with up until then was gone, and Morgan shifted forward, knowing the punk meant business now and ready to spring into action to stop him.

The sirens had still sounded several minutes out, and Morgan knew better than most how much could happen in just a few minutes. Until then, it was going to be on him to keep her, and the rest of them, safe.

He attempted to find Garcia's eyes, to calm her and let her know she was going to be okay. And when he did, she met his gaze with such trust suddenly shining through her fear, that he couldn't help believing it was possible to get them all out of this. She had faith in him so implicitly, then he must be able to do it.

'_Just stay still,' _he tried to say through his eyes in a silent message. If they could just hang in here until help arrived…

Garcia shook her head quickly, in answer to the robber's earlier question. "No, I – I – d-didn't call anyone. It wasn't me," her voice shook slightly with the words, but she was convincing enough. Morgan would have believed her if he hadn't known she'd been the one to call.

The robber didn't seem appeased, however, and that fast, he was stalking towards her, gun still raised. "I don't buy that for a second," he yelled. "Maybe I oughta just teach you a lesson, right now…"

His fingers moved on the trigger as he spoke, and before he could finish, Morgan was flying into him, tackling him at a run.

Derek knew that he'd hit the thug before he got to Garcia, or could take a shot at her, for which he was grateful. But then he was pulled up short by a burning, horrible tearing pain in his shoulder, close to his neck. He could hear Penelope screaming his name, and it came to him fuzzily that the second robber must have shot him.

It took a huge effort to continue fighting for the gun with the guy he'd slammed into, but Derek knew his life depended on it now. Unfortunately, the arm on the side he'd just taken a bullet in didn't seem to want to work for him anymore. The gun was pried from his helpless hand and then his opponent was standing over him. Losing a hand-to-hand fight wasn't a position he'd found himself in very often, but losing had never looking as bad as it did just now.

The pain of a second gunshot ripping into his flesh, ripping through his gut, kicked him back completely flat on the cool tile floor. Darkness started to creep in on the edges of his vision, and though he fought to beat it back, to get up, to hang onto awareness and stay with Garcia and make sure she was safe, he couldn't do it. Instead, before completely fading into nothingness and letting it swallow him whole, he heard Garcia crying out his name on a choking sob, and felt her hands clutching his good arm as she fell to her knees beside him. Was she okay? Was she hurt too? He'd thought she was okay, but… Morgan tried to reach for her, "Pen – " he started, but found he couldn't get anything else out. His eyes closed heavily, and everything went black.


	5. Chapter 5

(Hey everyone! I'm really sorry for the delay on this chapter. I honestly didn't mean to be gone this long without an update, and certainly not where the last chapter left off. I'm very sorry, but I promise I'll attempt to do better from here on out. And the show has been inspiring my Morgan/Garcia vibe even more than usual lately, so hopefully that will help me keep things flowing. Thanks again for hanging in there and reading, I love hearing your comments! Of course, I still don't own them… don't I wish!)

Come Back to Me

Chapter Five

Penelope Garcia was freaking out; terrified in a way she'd never had to be for Morgan, who most of the time, in her mind at least, seemed nearly invincible. But now that bubble was burst. There was so much blood, and she didn't know what to do, how to stop it, how to help him. They'd shot him – twice – and he was lying in a growing pool of his own blood right here in front of her, because he was trying to protect her. And she couldn't do anything.

Tears were flowing down her cheeks as she started talking incoherently to him, desperate for a response, any sign of life. She whipped off her sweater and pressed it to the gut wound, trying to staunch the bleeding; oblivious to the fact that she was now wearing only a thin-strapped tank and shivering with shock and pure, cold fear. It was as though the criminals who'd done this, the other hostages, even the very world around her, wasn't even there, all she could focus on was trying to slow down the flow of blood pouring out of Derek's stomach. The fingers of her other hands slid sickeningly through blood as she pressed them to the place where his shoulder and neck seemed to merge, hoping to at least hamper the bleeding from that wound as well.

There were crashes and sounds of a SWAT team bursting in and subduing the inexperienced robbers; commotion, running, and shouting all around her, yet she sat and only saw Derek, as if she were in the midst of a fog that muffled and kept everything else at a distance. His beautiful, soulful eyes were closed and he hadn't spoken since he'd weakly spoken her name just as she reached his side. He was breathing, but it was fast and shallow, each one a struggle for him to get.

She could only keep pressure on his two injuries the best she could, whispering encouragement to him nonsensically and praying as fervently as she ever had for him to just hang in there; just stay with her a little longer.

And then, suddenly, a familiar, blessed voice broke through her fog – like a ray of hopeful sunlight through clouds. It was Reid, calling out with just that tiny hint of a squeak his voice got in it when he was either very excited or worried. "There they are guys! Over there!" he was saying, and then he was standing at her and Morgan's side, flagging the EMTs over and ditching his favorite sweater vest to take her shaking fingers from Morgan's neck wound and add the heavy cloth and his own pressure there.

Without knowing how she'd gotten there, Penelope realized JJ was now crouched on her other side, wrapping her up comfortingly, murmuring that help was there, but not pulling her away from Morgan until the EMTs made them back up so that they could work. Penelope knew she wouldn't have moved away from anyone or anything but the people who needed through to save Derek, even if JJ had asked, had tried to get her to. But it also meant a lot that her friend didn't even try, just crouched there with her, rubbing her back and holding onto her as she tried to hold onto Derek, smoothing her hair back with gentle hands, telling her that they were both going to be fine.

Finally, she did step back, when the EMTs went to life Morgan onto a body board, and then a stretcher, and into the ambulance waiting outside. It was only then that she felt just how much her own body was shaking and quivering, even as she refused to release that one last connection she still had to him, her clutch on his arm. There was no way she intended to be left behind and not ride to the hospital with him.

But then they were telling her to let go, saying no one but medical personnel as they needed room to work on him. Suddenly, Hotch was there somehow, gently but firmly prying her locked fingers away from his arm, telling her that she had to let them do their job. She turned unthinkingly into her boss's shoulder, crying blindly, dazed and not at all sure what was happening, other than that she just been separated from Morgan. Hotch simply stood there, steady and unmoving for a moment, sensing she needed the support, and JJ kept rubbing her back and whispering consolation as they wheeled Morgan away, swallowing him up in their frantic babble and desperate attempts to bring him back. She needed to go with him, stay there with him, talking, calling him back, holding on. What if she wasn't there and he just let go? She'd never get to talk to him again, to see his eyes crinkle up with laughter at something she'd said. She had to make sure that wherever he was, he didn't even think about giving up the fight. The alternative wasn't an option she could accept.

This couldn't be the way it was going to end for the two of them. Not here, not now, not like this. Not just when both of them were finally truly happy – maybe for the first time so truly at peace – in her life at least. But there was nothing she could do about it; the ambulance was already wheeling out of the lot with the man she considered her savior, her hope, her whole life, inside; leaving her behind. There was nothing she could do but follow and get back to him as soon as she could.

Hotch gingerly, and as tactfully as possible, handed her off to Reid, who looked acutely awkward and unsure of how to hold her or offer any comfort, but patted her shoulder and tried his best while JJ began steering them toward the exit and out into the crisp night air while Hotch and Prentiss began to help the local police get the scene and other victims back in order.

It had begun to snow as they stepped back outside; beautiful, pure white flakes pouring down out of the midnight blue sky. On any other night, or this night if things had gone as planned, it would have been gorgeous. Morgan had said it was going to snow, with a twinkle in his eye and the hint of excitement in his voice that made a sense of childlike glee apparent at the prospect of the first snow of the year.

She was grateful that the 911 had gone to the whole team, and that she wasn't standing here now, bereft, with no one to keep her moving. She hadn't been so mind-blankingly terrified since she was abducted. But even that was different, and not honestly as awful as this fear, that she could have everything wonderful she'd waited so long to have, the man she'd longed to hold in her arms, yanked away from her. Morgan could lose his life, and it would be all because he didn't want her to get hurt. She'd just had to run in there like an idiot…

JJ, as usual, seemed to know just what to do, and how to keep them together and on track. And Reid, whether he thought he knew how or not, was doing wonders just by holding onto her just as tight as she was holding onto him. He trembled a little and she was touched by the thought that he would be almost as devastated as she would if - Derek was like a brother to him, the closest thing to a casual buddy their young genius had ever had.

Once they got into the SUV and JJ put it in gear, and Garcia knew they were heading after Derek as quickly as possible, she managed to bring herself back under control a bit. She sat up straight, sniffling and wiping her eyes while she looked apologetically at Reid. "Sorry," she mumbled to him, "didn't mean to fall apart on ya there."

JJ merely scoffed from the front seat, throwing a tiny smile over her smile, in spite of the situation. "Oh, don't apologize, it's good for him."

Garcia snorted back a laugh, which felt good, even if it was somewhat beyond hysterical at that point.

Reid, in want of something to say, suddenly launched into encyclopedic mode. "Actually, it's good for you too. Did you know that your bodies production of tears releases…"

Garcia couldn't help tuning out again, even though she knew he was just trying to distract her, to cheer her up. But her mind couldn't seem to hold onto anything long enough to fully concentrate on it. All she wanted was Morgan; she wanted him right back beside her and she wasn't going to be able to focus on anything else until she saw him again. She wanted to know he was going to be alright. And she wanted to believe that he hadn't taken those bullets for her; that this wasn't all her fault.

But she knew that he had. She was as sickeningly certain of that as she was of anything else she knew about him. He'd do it again in a heartbeat for her – or for Reid or JJ or any of them. She loved him for it, even though she hated it too. That he would willingly sacrifice himself, and not even consider what a loss it would be to the rest of them.

It seemed like ages ago that the ambulance had sped away into the dark and that it was taking much too long to get to him. What if they were already too late? What if he'd lost too much blood? What if something in him had been too damaged for them to repair?

There were no answers, and at this point Garcia knew any assurances anyone gave her would be empty, purely hopeful, promises. She wouldn't ask her too younger friends to lie to her, even if she was desperate for good news and hope. All she could do was stare at her blood-stained hands clenched around Reid's hand in her lap, trying to stop their shaking. She was covered in Derek's blood, and just like that, she was crying again. What if she never got to tell him she loved him one more time?


	6. Chapter 6

Once again, it's taken me longer than I wanted to get this on the computer, but I hope you'll still enjoy it and be willing to read anyway. If nothing else, you're getting a much longer chapter this time around. Hang in there with me for a couple more chapters, things look dark now, and it's heavy on the drama, but I hope you'll feel rewarded if you stick it out… Thanks so much to everyone who has read and reviewed, your words mean a lot and keep me trying to make it better!

I still don't own the show or any of the characters, of course.

Come Back to Me

Chapter Six

It had been late when she and Derek left Quantico; nearing midnight, she was almost certain. But in her addled stated of mind, Garcia couldn't really say anything for sure. It was almost two in the morning, in any case, by the time they reached the hospital where Morgan had been taken.

Not knowing for sure just where he was, or what had happened with his condition since his arrival, they wandered into the ER waiting room, figuring it was their best bet – at least for the moment, until they knew something different. Hopefully, Garcia realized bleakly, someone would recognize that they were there for him and come to update them eventually. If not, she might be forced to cause a scene. She could just see Reid squirming with embarrassment now, in her mind's eye. It gave her a brief moment's tiny smile and she gratefully gave Reid's hand, which she had yet to let go of, another squeeze, once again glad that he and JJ were with her. The three of them were all looking pretty shell-shocked, but at least they were in it together.

JJ and Garcia sat down nervously, JJ's foot tapping in agitation as she alternately bit her lip and twirled a lock of hair around her finger; anxious habits that had never shown themselves until now as far as Garcia could remember, no matter how big or important the crowd she'd had to stand before, or how difficult the information she had to present. Reid, meanwhile, had taken to pacing the length of the room, quickly back and forth, arms crossed around his torso, muttering what sounded like lines from Chaucer's _Canterbury Tales _to himself, as if keeping sane with them. She marveled that in the jumble her own mind was she even knew what he was saying.

Yet, even as her two friends were finding ways to help themselves endure the waiting, she couldn't seem to find anything to help herself. She couldn't seem to stop her hands and arms from shaking, so instead she wrapped them around herself tightly, rocking worriedly, and trying to pray to God as often as she could string thoughts together coherently in her head. She couldn't seem to sit still, no position gave her any comfort from the crushing, suffocating pain in her chest, nor the fear crowding in her mind. She felt so frantic inside that it was a struggle to even stay seated or contained in the room. Watching Reid pace almost transfixed her, as if by following his motions she could make his routine back and forth movement her own and somehow steady herself with the monotony of it.

She had nearly reached the point where she felt she was either going to burst or scream in frustration when an ER nurse strode into the waiting room, looking around purposefully, as though deciding who it was she was looking for. JJ stood, polish and professionalism immediately snapping back into place, as if she knew it was needed to show this woman just who they were. She took a step forward, just as the nurse seemed to decide on them and headed their way. Standing, Penelope felt herself latching onto Reid's arm again as they trailed in JJ's wake.

"Are you here for Agent Morgan?" the nurse asked crisply, she'd assumed so by their appearance but was making sure just the same.

"Yes, we are," JJ affirmed smoothly. "I'm Special Agent Jareau, and this is Special Agent Dr. Reid, and Agent Garcia."

"Is his family present?" the nurse asked. "I really should be speaking to his family…"

"They're on a flight from Chicago, but won't reach us for another hour or so yet. I don't believe they'd have a problem with you giving us an update to relay to them," JJ offered confidently, hoping she could convince the woman to override what she knew were hospital procedures.

"I'll have to check with my supervisor," the nurse said apologetically. "I'm really not authorized to give patient information to anyone other than immediate family."

JJ nodded curtly, disappointed, and the nurse started to turn away, but Garcia's voice stopped her, tremulous and in a tone as near begging as anyone had ever heard her use. "Please," she whispered, just barely touching the other woman's arm to call her back, "can't you…can you at least tell us if…if he's still…still alive?" Her eyes were so beseeching, the plea in them so open and raw that JJ knew the nurse would have to tell them something. No one could completely stonewall against that.

To the three agents' surprise, the nurse gave a quick nod, the motion so slight as to almost be missed. "They're still working on him in the ER. He lost a lot of blood and both gunshot wounds are serious, but he's strong. And still fighting to hang in there."

Garcia gave her a nod in thanks, not trusting her voice, but instead biting her lip and ordering herself not to cry. At least he was still with them; he was trying to come back to her. She tried to give the nurse just a tiny bit of explanation why the information was so important to her. "I'm his girlfriend," she whispered, "I just…I just needed to know. I was with him when he was shot…"

The other woman tilted her head then, studying Garcia's face. "Is your name Penelope?" she asked.

Garcia nodded.

"He was asking for you in the ambulance," the nurse told her, almost as if the reluctance she'd had to tell them anything minutes before had been forgotten. "It was really more mumbling, but the paramedics thought he seemed agitated that he wasn't getting a response. He was pretty incoherent, but he wouldn't stop asking if 'Penelope' was alright. They were surprised that he was so persistent when he was in and out of consciousness."

Garcia's head bowed upon hearing this, far from feeling good that he was so concerned for her welfare, she felt even more guilty. She should have been in the ambulance with him, she should have forced them to take her. He had needed her, needed to know that she was there, and she hadn't been.

"Thank you, for what you have told us," JJ answered the woman kindly, seeing that Garcia couldn't seem to look any of them in the face right then.

The nurse gave them what was obviously meant to be an encouraging smile. "I'm sorry I can't tell you more, but hopefully we'll know more soon, and by then his family may be here anyway. You're in the right waiting room, just sit tight, and let someone at the desk know when his family arrives." With a last nod, she turned and walked away from them, leaving them with not much more information, but with the hope that Morgan was at least hanging on.

It wasn't long after that when Hotch and Prentiss barreled in, looking harried but like they were running on enough adrenaline to keep going at full speed for hours yet. "Anything?" Hotch asked JJ the minute he saw them and stalked purposefully over with Prentiss on his heels.

JJ repeated everything they had been told – which wasn't much really – and for a second Hotch looked like he might storm over and try to use his authority to demand all the details on Morgan's condition. But he reigned himself back under the normal iron control he was famous for and settled in to wait with the rest of them.

Prentiss' hand gently squeezed Garcia's shoulder in a silent show of support before she too lowered herself into a seat, sighing dejectedly as she stared ahead, wishing for something – anything – she could do for her friends. It was moments like these, when there was nothing she could physically do, that she was often plagued with silent doubts and insecurity.

She and Morgan had that in common she'd realized not long ago. As long as they were in motion, as long as they were taking some action, both of them were okay. It was when things were out of their control that neither of them were very good at dealing with. Many times she and Morgan were partnered up in the field on cases and she had come to truly enjoy his company and conversation. Though she wouldn't have expected it when she first met him, there were many other, smaller things they had in common as well, from their taste in writers like Vonnegut to the way they could work together like clockwork to diffuse a tense situation. He had been the first member of the team to openly offer her his friendship when she'd joined the BAU and she had been grateful ever since. She honestly believed she wouldn't be as much a part of the group as she was now without the acceptance he'd first offered. What would they all, any of them, do without him?

But especially Penelope. It was easy to see that he meant far more than mere words could really describe to their illustrious computer tech, and that part of her sparkle, her spunk, her hilarious and ribald sense of humor that kept them afloat in some of the worst situations would be gone forever if she lost Derek. They all knew that things had changed dramatically between he and Penelope when she had been abducted and he finally realized how much he cared for her. But it came into painfully obvious focus just then how much he was Garcia's world – and had been for a long time, not just since they'd been a couple. Penelope had given a large part of her being over to their sly, flirtatious man of action ages ago, quietly, before any of the rest of them had noticed, before she herself had dared believe the offering would ever be returned. And just then, Emily saw with gut-wrenching clarity that her friend had long stopped knowing any way to be without him.

What were they going to do?

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

It seemed like another eternity, but it had really only been a couple of hours since they'd arrived at the hospital, when they saw Morgan's mom and two sisters come into the waiting room, looking anxious and concerned. But even through her obvious fear for her son, Mrs. Morgan still carried herself like a queen moving through her court as she caught sight of Hotch and started across the crowded waiting room towards them, her daughters following her looking much more flustered and afraid. That her bearing could still remain so dignified and almost regal inspite of the turmoil she must being feeling said a lot about the character she possessed. It was obvious that she lovingly ruled her roost and they all depended on her example to follow. It was plainly clear where Derek got his strength and will from.

"Agent Hotchner, I'm assuming you know what's going on with my son," she spoke up quietly, once she'd reached him, inclining her head in a nod to the rest of them.

"They didn't tell us much when you weren't present, Mrs. Morgan," Hotch replied, looking truly sorry that he didn't have more news to give her. "Only that he was still hanging in there and they had him in surgery. He sustained two gunshot wounds when he walked in on a convenience store robbery."

His dark eyes flicked quickly over to Garcia as he said this last, as if to verify his statement. She nodded, even more afraid than she'd already been suddenly. What if Morgan's mother thought that this was all her fault? That this had happened to her son because of his girlfriend's own stupidity? But she forced herself to take a steadying breath and step forward.

"There's something else, Mrs. Morgan," she whispered, afraid that Morgan's family was about to push her away, and praying that they wouldn't. Even if they did, it couldn't be helped. They deserved to know all that she did, and she was the only one who could tell them.

"I've told you to call me Fran," Mrs. Morgan said, amazing Penelope with a warm smile and reaching out to take her hand. "It's good to see you again, Penelope," she added, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm glad to see you too, Mrs – I mean, Fran" Garcia caught herself with a nervous little laugh, something she only did when stressed to near her breaking point. She was glad to see Morgan's mom; she liked the older woman very much, but right now she was too worried about how to begin her confession.

It was almost as though, just as Derek sometimes did at his best, his mother could read her mind. She chose that moment to ask gently, "What is it, dear?"

Taking another gulping breath, Garcia squared her shoulders and plunged in. "I was with him," she whispered, meeting Fran's eyes and trying as hard as she possibly could to hold onto her composure and not cry any more. "I needed gas in my car, and Derek stopped to fill it up for me before we got back to his place," she blushed at that admission, but fumbled on, now staring at her feet. "This is all my fault. If I'd already filled the gas tank, if I hadn't asked him to stop at that station, if I hadn't come barging into the station trying to help him, he'd be okay, this wouldn't have happened to him."

A few renegade tears did slip out anyway, and Penelope hated herself for them, but Morgan's mom simply pulled her into a comforting, maternal hug, rubbing slow, soothing circles on her back as she did. "Sweetie, this isn't your fault," she said softly, then adding in a whisper at Garcia's ear. "I know you'd never hurt him, and that you do the best you can to take care of him and make him happy. I've honestly never seen my son as content as he's been since he starting seeing you. You _did not _do this. Understood?"

Garcia nodded, relief flooding her face as she realized the other woman understood perfectly.

It was then that Hotch interrupted gently, breaking in to guide Mrs. Morgan towards the nurse's station. "Now that you're here, let's see what we can find out about Morgan," he said kindly.

They came to a stop right at the edge of the desk, Morgan's sisters and the rest of the team right behind them. "Can I help you?" a different nurse asked pleasantly, looking up at them.

"Yes, I need an update on Derek Morgan. He was brought in a little over two hours ago with two gunshot wounds. He's a Special Agent with the FBI and was shot during a convenience store hold-up."

The nurse's eyes showed immediate recognition, but also a quick flash of trepidation which made Garcia feel horrifyingly faint. She obviously knew who they meant and wasn't anxious to deliver whatever the news on his condition was. "Yes, Agent Morgan," she replied simply. "Are you his family?" 

"I'm his mother."

The nurse checked some notes, then told them. "He's out of surgery and in recovery. Just let me page his doctor to inform him you've arrived and he'll be out to speak with you as soon as he can."

It didn't take long after her page, for a sandy-haired man, wearing scrubs with enough blood on them to make Penelope's stomach flip over, to appear. It wasn't that she hadn't seen a lot worse, but knowing that blood was Derek's and that he'd lost so much of it made her knees weak. The doctor's face was tired, and his shoulders seemed stooped, but when he came forward to speak with them, he gave Fran, Hotch, and the rest of them a genuine smile and looked them in the eye.

"Agent Morgan came through the surgery surprisingly well, considering the amount of blood he'd lost and how close both shots came to hitting vital organs. We finally managed to stop the internal bleeding from the wound to his stomach, and also to repair the damage to his neck and shoulder. He should be able to regain full use of that arm in time. In fact, I see no reason why he shouldn't make a full and complete recovery."

They all seemed to collectively breathe again in relief, but just when Garcia finally felt a little of the tension and guilt within her uncoiling, the doctor continued.

"I'm only concerned about one thing. He was unconscious a long time, his body suffered severe stress and massive blood loss, and sometimes, in order to deal, the consciousness simply shuts down, putting the body to sleep effectively, in order to heal. It shouldn't be permanent, but there are no guarantees in a situation like this…"

"Just what are you saying, Doctor?" Fran asked, not liking his last cautionary words at all.

"I'm saying, Mrs. Morgan, that while I see no reason why your son shouldn't come out of it soon and be on the road to recovery, he hasn't regained consciousness yet.

We did everything in our power to save his life – and we have – but he's slipped into a coma."


	7. Chapter 7

( Hey everyone! I'm so very very sorry for the delay on this chapter. I honestly thought I'd get it up in only a couple days' time from the last one, but as usual, real life seems to love interfering with my best-laid plans. Hopefully though this will be worth the wait, as things are about to go back on an upward swing in this one.)

Come Back To Me

Chapter Seven

Derek Morgan felt strangely as if he were floating; in the dark, without knowing where he was, or being able to feel or see anything to help him figure it out. He wanted to open his eyes – tried to as hard as he could – but found he simply couldn't seem to make his body obey. It was like a blindfold that he could remove; being caught in darkness this way. And that small part of him that still always felt like a powerless teenager panicked for just a moment. Why wasn't he able to control his own body? Where was he? Why couldn't he see anything? What had happened?

And then, terrifyingly, one single clear thought burst through, _Where was Penelope? _ And with that the rest of what he knew had happened seemed to return. Had those thugs hurt her too? If they had so much as touched even one beautiful blonde curl on her head, he'd beat them to a pulp. Or he would once he figured out where he was and how to make himself move again.

It was maddening – the sense that his mind wasn't at all attached to his limbs; that he couldn't connect his mind's commands to the rest of him to carry them out. Were they still in the little 7-11? Had the others gotten his 911 call? Were the police there yet?

None of his questions were getting any answers, and he couldn't make his voice work to ask anyone, even if he didn't feel like he was completely and utterly alone. "I'm sorry, Pen, I tried," he found himself trying to tell her, even if the words were only audible in his own mind. "Please, Baby Girl, you have to be alright."

The monitors attached to his frighteningly still body showed a brief agitation – a speeding up of his heartrate – but nothing else let on what was troubling him even in unconsciousness, or showed that anything was wrong. And Morgan himself was dropping back off into the blank darkness of comatose sleep before he could try any harder to break through.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Everyone had quietly gone in to see with their own eyes that Morgan was indeed alive and breathing on his own. IT seemed they all wanted to touch his arm or shoulder or say a couple of words to him; let him know that they were there. But then, just as quickly, Hotch was attempting to usher his team back out, reminding them that they needed to let his family have some time with him and that there were too many people crowded in the room.

Garcia, however, wasn't budging, and Fran Morgan made the decision for her when she reached out and grasped her hand firmly, "You're welcome to stay with us, Penelope," she assured her, indicating the seat next to her, as Desiree and Sarah had taken up posts on the other side of their brother. Hotch and the rest of them goodbye, making sure to give Reid and JJ a grateful, if teary, hug and thanks for staying with her earlier and keeping her together.

She took up the chair next to Morgan's mom and watched as the older woman leaned over to kiss her grown son's forehead and brush a loving hand over his shaved hair, whispering motherly words of love to her baby. Blinking back tears, Garcia couldn't help thinking again that her own thoughtless reaction had possibly taken him from all the rest of them. He would never have rushed that guy like that if he hadn't thought that she was in danger. He wouldn't have gotten himself shot if not for trying to keep her safe.

Though she knew she was welcome, she felt like an intruder, a bad omen, more trouble than she was worth. In fact, she was just about to excuse herself and leave the family alone for a bit, when Fran stood, her daughters following suit, as if reacting to some silent signal.

"We're going to find something to eat, some coffee, and freshen up a little," Morgan's mom explained. "We haven't taken time to do anything since we got the phone call and flew out of Chicago." They started to file out, but Fran stopped again for a second, bending over to gently squeeze Garcia's shoulder and whisper in her ear, "Talk to him, Sweetie. Let him know you're here. I'll wager he wants to hear your voice most of all. Call him back for us."

A single tear spilled over Garcia's cheek at that, but she nodded quickly and forced a little smile in return to Fran's kind one. And then, she found she was once again alone with Morgan, as she hadn't been since this all happened. Her Morgan. It was hard to believe that just a few short hours ago, they had been headed home to let off some steam, and enjoy a rare night alone together with nothing but the wonderful distractions her own chocolate sculpture of a man could provide to occupy them. They'd been so lighthearted, or she had been. She remembered now that something had been troubling Derek, though he'd assured her it was nothing. But she had been happy; basking still in the glow of knowing that he loved her; that he needed her and trusted her as he did very few others. And now this. Instead of spending the evening showing him just how glad she was to be with him, she'd somehow managed to get him shot. How horribly the course of the night had careened off track.

With a quiet, wistful sigh, she moved her chair as close to him as she could possibly get and reached out to touch him. To trace her fingers down his beautiful dark muscled arm and take his hand. Bowing her head, she rested it on the bed's cool, metal railing for a second, trying to collect herself to focus. "Lord, please, help me be strong for him. And please help him. Let him come back to me."

She didn't know what else to say, and after another minute's silence, finally just whispered an 'amen,' and looked up to study his motionless features. He was as handsome and flawless to look at as ever, but seeing him so still made him seem cut from stone like a statue instead of a living, breathing man, which was disconcerting to say the least. It made her not want to stare at any of those attributes that usually took her breath away and seemed impossible to stop staring at. Even when she'd spent many of her wee morning hours curled up in bed, her head resting on the pillow next to his, watching him sleep, there had been something different about his features at rest. Something just still alive and letting her know that any minute his eyes could pop open, bearing that devilish twinkle they sometimes had in them, and he'd be awake, grinning, to start kissing her 'good morning' before she could even react. At least in sleep he looked like he was finally at peace. He still looked pained now, as if he was troubled even now while barely looking alive.

Sitting forward, she ran and feather-light hand along his cheek, cupping the side of his face as she kissed his lips, wanting to start sobbing again when there was no response; no answering challenge from his mouth to her kiss. Sighing, she touched her forehead to his, wishing she knew what was happening in his mind, if he was able to think anything right now. Then she resigned herself to sit back in the chair, just holding his hand, and began to speak.

"Hey cowboy, did ya miss me?" she whispered, forcing the playful words out past a huge and unyielding lump in her throat. If only he could answer her, then everything would be okay. She could pretend things were like they always were, after all, if he could hear her words, she wanted to make sure he'd know who it was that was talking. "The nurses said you were fretting about me, even with two bullets in you, and I can't have that, now can I, Handsome?" I'm here, and I'm fine, thanks…thanks to you," she said after a pause and swallowing hard to choke back a sob. "But I wish you wouldn't have taken the risk. Do you think I'd really be okay if…if you aren't? Anyway…" she blinked back tears furiously, "quit worrying. Your goddess is right here waiting for her hero to wake up. So open those sexy chocolate eyes and come back to me already." She gave him a wavery smile, trying to be brave and hoping he could feel it, even if he didn't see.

Penelope sat there for so long she lost track of time, studying him closely, hoping against hope for even the smallest, subtlest movement or sign. She'd take anything, any tiny hint that he'd heard her in there somewhere. There was almost on chance, and yet she couldn't seem to help it.

Just when she was giving up, and about to sit back and try fruitlessly to get a little sleep – she felt it. The weakest, faintest pressure of his fingers squeezing her hand as it held his. It was so quick, so light, the she thought she'd probably imagined it, logically at least. But it didn't even matter, grinning she realized it made all the difference in the world to her. Leaning forward, she gently stroked his arm again, speaking quietly once more. "Derek, can you hear me? I'm here, and you know it, don't you?"

She didn't get another sign, but he one she had been given seemed more than enough. Clutching his hand in hers to her chest, she kissed his knuckles and leaned back in her seat, still holding his hand. He _was_ going to be okay; she finally felt able to believe that now. And when his mom and Sarah and Desiree returned a few minutes later, they found her finally asleep by his side, with relief showing on her face.


	8. Chapter 8

Hey everyone! Hope you all had a wonderful and restful Christmas holiday and had plenty of time with your loved ones. My holiday has been crazed and I hope you'll accept this next chapter, late as it is. There's a couple more chapters to go yet, I think, and I'm hoping to write a Christmas-y or New Year's themed one-shot too, even if it ends up being late. Anyway, thank you for your patience when my updates are slower than I mean for them to be and for your always much appreciated feedback. Now on to the story…

Come Back to Me

Chapter Eight

It was early yet when Emily Prentiss cautiously entered Morgan's hospital room, gingerly balancing a carrier of coffees for Garcia and for Derek's mother and sisters. She hoped she wasn't intruding and didn't want to be a pest, but she honestly couldn't seem to stay away any longer. All she wanted was to check on how Garcia was holding up, see if she could do anything to help, and find out if maybe – just maybe – Morgan had shown any signs of waking.

She was surprised as she reached the door to find his mother and sisters tiptoeing out. Fran Morgan smiled at her warmly and Desiree and Sarah both proclaimed her a lifesaver upon her offer of much more tempting quality coffee than the hospital cafeteria had to offer. "Penelope's asleep, and we were just going for some breakfast," Fran explained, patting Emily's arm kindly, "but you're welcome to go in and sit with them if you want."

"I think I will for a minute, if you're sure I won't disturb them," Emily agreed, taking the one cup of coffee that was left with her for Garcia. But the sight that greeted her eyes when she pushed the door open and entered the room, stopped her in her tracks, a smile spreading across her face.

Garcia was curled up in the chair right beside Morgan's bed, feet tucked under her, leaning far enough over out of the chair that her head was resting on Morgan's shoulder and she was holding one of his hands in hers, their fingers intertwined. Everyone on the team of course knew how head over heels they were for each other, but the glimpses of it they were treated to were the sexually charged bantering and creative uses flirty nicknames. This sort of quiet show of caring and devotion was something they had obviously kept for themselves alone. For a second, Emily just stood there, a lump building in her throat at the picture the two of them made.

She had finally gotten her feet in gear and stepped forward to put Garcia's peppermint mocha latte on the nightstand at the other woman's side for her when she woke, when she heard movement from the bed. Shocked, she turned to look right into Derek's confused, anxious dark eyes. "Prentiss?" he asked softly, clearly not quite sure yet just where he was or what was going on. "Where's Penelope?"

Blinking back a few rare tears and a yelp of surprise, Prentiss felt a smile bursting across her face in spite of herself, "Right here," she nodded, inclining her head to her side, showing him that his girlfriend was sitting right there next to him, starting to stir from her own slumber. "She's right here."

Derek looked down, still seeming a little fuzzy, but slowly piecing it all back together. He saw their hands held there on his lap atop the covers and looked back up at Emily again worriedly. "Is she okay? Was she hurt?"

Emily shook her head 'no,' opening her mouth to explain to him what he'd missed when Garcia suddenly sat up, coming awake quickly at the sound of Derek's voice finally making its way back into her ears. She cried out his name joyfully, seeing that he was awake, and flung her arms around his neck – for a moment forgetting that he'd just awakened from a coma and was still hooked up to all manner of equipment and wires.

He chuckled deep in his chest, and reached out to hug her back, only to stop short, his arms freezing, a wince on his face and a hiss of pain he couldn't quite stop escaping through his teeth.

Pulling back quickly, Garcia heard Prentiss asking at almost the same time as she did, "Are you alright?"

_'I would be if you'd hold me again like you were,' _ Derek noted to himself. He'd missed the warmth of her loving embrace – missed _her _– the whole time he'd been out; even unconscious, she was somehow still in his mind, with him. He'd been desperate to hold her close, to feel her presence next to him, solid and real and not some fevered dream. "Yeah, I'm fine, just a little tender," he mumbled, "should've thought before I moved to much." And that was all he offered out loud. He wasn't one to beg, but he gazed at her, trying to convey with his eyes that he wanted her to come closer, _needed _her closer.

Emily seemed to shake herself out of her shock suddenly and announced, "I'm glad you're awake, Morgan. It's good to have you back. I'm gonna go find a doctor though, and have them check you over, okay? Then I'll go get your mom and sisters."

He nodded, suddenly realizing he still felt pretty weak and tired, which seemed absolutely ridiculous to him when he considered all of the time he'd spent in the coma already, which to his mind was basically like sleeping. He simply nodded to Emily, lifting a hand slowly this time to rub his eyes and thanked her.

Then she was gone and he was alone with Penelope. Shifting his gaze over to meet her eyes, he saw that they were now brimming with tears and red-rimmed from having already cried before this. He motioned her nearer, cupping her face in a clumsy hand when she finally complied and leaned in close to him again. "Come here, Baby Girl," he whispered low in her ear. "I missed you."

She smiled, leaning over even farther, her blonde stream of curls falling over her shoulders and brushing his chest, like it was hiding the two of them together behind a flaxen curtain. "Not nearly as much as I missed you, Sweet Cheeks," she teased, smiling at him so the tears running down her cheeks seemed to make her face shine happily again at last. Then, she lightly brought her lips that last little bit lower to meet his in sweet reunion as he felt his heart start to beat faster, the way it always did from even the most innocent of her kisses, and he could feel her heart pounding in time as the contact continued.

He toyed with a curl of her hair, slipping his fingers through it, savoring the soft, silky feel; suddenly thinking that as long as she was still here with him like this, he was going to be fine.

They were interrupted just then by a business-like clearing of the throat, announcing that they no longer had the room to themselves. Garcia giggled girlishly, her cheeks flushing pink, which made Derek grin wider, pleased with himself, as she stood and they both turned to look at the middle-aged doctor who had entered the room.

"Well, Agent Morgan," he stated dryly. "Good to see you back – obviously you're feeling much better."

Penelope blushed even brighter, if that was possible, and stumbled backwards to sit back in the chair she'd vacated when he woke. Hearing laughter from behind the doctor, Derek saw Emily and his two sisters, who'd obviously bonded while he'd been out of commission, chortling heartily at his expense. His mother stood beside them, looking on with a pleased, knowing smile on her face. His eyes met hers and she came to kiss his forehead. "Hi, Baby," she said, using the endearment she'd always had from him as a kid. "It's about time you woke up."

He let his mother fuss for a moment, knowing she'd held herself under control the whole time, both for Sarah and Des, and quite possibly for Pen as well, and that she needed to let out a little of her relief. Then, he turned to look at the doctor, who had been waiting patiently, and asked, "So what's the damage, Doc? Will I be outta here by Christmas?"

He felt Pen slip her smaller hand in his as he asked the question and was staggered, as he still always was, by just how much comfort she could provide with something as simple as being there and holding his hand. Returning the gentle pressure, Derek waited for his prognosis.

"Obviously, Agent Morgan, you lost a massive amount of blood and were in a coma overnight, so we'll want to observe you for another day's time. You'll have a fair amount of physical therapy ahead for the muscle damage to your shoulder – which will take time. But, I think you should be able to head out of here tomorrow and expect to make a swift recovery. The arm may not regain 100 strength and mobility, but it shouldn't be an amount of damage that troubles you once it's healed and rehabbed."

Derek nodded, relief flooding his system at the good news, though Penelope immediately saw determination harden in his eyes as well. That arm _would _be 100 again, if he had anything to say about it, she knew him that well. She merely smiled at him, loving that fierce, driven streak he had – she had it in her too. For now, she was just going to focus on the fact that he would be fine, and in a day's time he would be home where she could have him all to herself and take care of him. Derek didn't know it yet, but he was coming to her place for awhile, while he got back on his feet – whether he'd think he needed to or not, she wasn't going to take no for an answer. She wanted to fuss over him, spoil him, thank him, and make it very clear that she just might have to kill him herself if he ever risked himself like that again.

Glancing back over at the man occupying her thoughts, she saw that he was eyeing her warily, for once not seeming able to read her mind on his own. "What?" he asked, his brow crinkling adorably with his puzzled expression.

"Oh, nothing, Hot Stuff," she said, smiling innocently, though mischief twinkled in her eyes and she knew he cold see it. "I was only thinking how ready I am to get you alone again."

"Take it easy with me, Mama," he chuckled, eyes darkening with desire, contradicting his words, "I'm an injured man."

"Sweet Cheeks, you don't need to worry about a thing," she said with a wink, and Morgan felt himself swallow hard, eyes widening as she actually licked her lips, her gaze positively hungry when she leaned over to whisper in his ear, "I'll do all the work…"


	9. Chapter 9

(Hey everyone! I'm sorry the wait for this chapter has been long, even for me. I hope this installment at least partially makes up for the wait. It is a chapter that's a lot more upbeat than the previous ones. The Garcia in my head was being especially naughty, and so it was fun to play around with that. I don't she was quite bad enough to warrant me changing the rating, so I haven't. Hope no one's upset by that. Anyway, enjoy!

_I still don't own them, just my little made-up version of how things could go…)_

Come Back to Me

Chapter Nine

Two days' time found Morgan being released from the hospital and feeling rather sheepish at the fact that his family and the whole team were there for the event. It was way more attention than he wanted drawn to something that he had to do in a wheelchair. He didn't like having to go anywhere or do anything that he couldn't do of his own power or on his own two feet. But hospital regulations stipulated that patients leaving the hospital left in a wheelchair. He'd learned right off that he wasn't going to get anywhere with his friends or his mom and sisters either, and given up the fight.

Reid was pushing his chair toward the exit, teasing him about who was the muscle now, while Morgan glowered at him silently. But Penelope was at his side, smiling at him beatifically, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder, and so it was easy to let the scowl leave his face, shrug, and let it go. After all, he figured Reid was long overdue for a chance to dish it back out. Morgan knew he'd certainly done his share of teasing the young genius over the years they'd worked together.

As they crossed the threshold and left the hospital's entrance, Morgan marveled at how good it felt to have the

fresh air blowing across his face – it was brisk and cold, with the hint of more snow to come in it, but to him the main thing it smelt and felt like was freedom. He was finally getting out of the hospital and going home.

"So, you guys are headed right to your house?" Hotch was asking Garcia, making sure he'd know where his agents were and that they didn't need any help.

"Yep, that's the plan," Garcia chirped, cutting off Morgan's objection that she felt coming even as he just barely got his mouth open. "I've got Esther parked right over there." She pointed out her vintage car sitting at the curb and Reid started heading the wheelchair in that direction.

"Mama, what are you doin'?" Morgan asked, feeling even more silly when he realized that even now they weren't going to let him take care of himself. "I'll be fine at home. You know you can come over whenever. You don't need to play nursemaid here. I'm fine."

"Whatever, Sweet Cheeks," Garcia answered blithely, brooking no argument. "I know you. You'll be up and around pushing yourself and getting hurt if somebody doesn't make sure you behave. You're coming home with me, and I'm gonna spoil you rotten, and you'll just have to deal with it!" She poked a finger into his chest, not caring if she was playfully lecturing him in front of the rest of the group. She was trying to make a joke of it, but there was raw concern hiding behind the teasing in her eyes. She was worried he'd try to do too much too quickly and strain his body even more, or that something unexpected might go wrong and he'd be at his place alone. She just wanted to have him with her for awhile, so she could see for herself that he was alright.

Morgan, for his part, though he would never admit it, felt the blood pumping through his veins accelerate, heat washing over him, at the tone of her voice. He knew he was whipped, though he planned on trying to keep it a secret as long as he could, but it flat-out turned him on when she got bossy like that. She didn't offer to take charge very often, but he liked it when she did. He felt like all the rest of his life was decision and actions, and so to be able to give up the control and do as she said appealed to him more than he would have imagined possible.

"You win, Goddess," was all he said, not wanting to upset her anyway, and realizing, as he stood from the wheelchair and dizziness almost pushed him back down, that maybe he wasn't quite as back to normal as he'd like to be. Reid, who was still standing close, reached out to steady him by the arm, noticing the way he'd swayed when he stood. "If you want me at your place that much, you've got me," Morgan smiled at her lazily, trying to let her know he was okay, but she frowned, having seen what had just happened and the way he'd faltered.

Morgan turned to look at his partner. "Thanks, Reid," he murmured, sitting down in the seat and forcing himself to sheepishly meet the younger man's eyes. "I'm good now. Coulda taken you right over with me there."

Reid nodded good-naturedly, chuckling with him, and stepping away again after closing the door behind his friend. "No problem," he said awkwardly, not used to Derek Morgan physically needing anyone's help – least of all his, but glad to offer what he could.

"We'll stop in and check on you guys," JJ said, waving them off with the others. Penelope smiled back at her with a wave. "See you next week," she told her friends.

And then they were off, both of them feeling relieved just to be speeding away from there with the sense that life might finally be heading back towards what they were used to again. Morgan laid his head back against the headrest and let out a sigh, grateful just to be outside and for the private comfort of it being just the two of them. He rubbed a tired hand over his eyes, thinking how great it would be when he got his energy back – the current way that the smallest thing completely drained him was maddening.

He opened his eyes again to glance over at her, and she smiled at him wordlessly, taking one hand off the steering wheel to reach over and take his. He swore it was like she could hear his thoughts just as if he'd spoken them aloud. "Don't worry, Hot Stuff," she said lightly, as she pulled into her complex's parking lot, winking at him and leaning over to kiss him on the cheek after she'd parked. "You're on your way back now. Don't sweat it. You'll be kicking in doors and slamming suspects up against cars and worrying them over in interrogation again in no time."

He couldn't help smirking at her words; she was right, and knew him well enough to realize how good that sounded. He was sick and tired of feeling weak. However, what he wasn't sure she realized was that on the job wasn't where he was currently most anxious to exercise his passion and aggression. "Hey hey, Sexy Girl," he said, chucking her under the chin and then gritting his teeth as he turned away and managed to heave himself out of the car and onto his feet unaided. "I'm ready to be back in the saddle. No use denyin' that. But that's not the action I'm missing most right now."

"Oh, no?" she asked, widening her eyes as if she had no idea what he was talking about, all playful innocence mixed with sex-kitten teasing, masterfully balanced in a way he'd never seen anyone do as well as her. "Why, whatever could you mean?"

Frustrated that he didn't quite feel up to showing her and yet laughing at her antics despite himself, he struck out toward her front door, wishing he could at least walk at normal speed. She jumped out of her seat and caught up with him easily, unlocking the door for him as he paused at his destination.

They'd barely stepped in when he was on her, having to taste her just then, regardless of the pain that shot through his abdomen at the sudden movement. His lips crashed into hers, his body pressing her up against the wall of the entryway as she just barely managed to shove the door closed behind them before she lost her senses.

"Don't tease me when I'm not sure I can follow through on doling out the punishment for it, Mama," he warned between kisses, voice fierce, low and gravelly, as he easily held her in place – not that she was complaining.

He might not have been able to move as fast as he usually would have, but suddenly the dizziness he was experiencing was more from lack of air at refusing to break their kiss that from the injuries he'd sustained. His hands came up both sides of her neck, cradling her face as he tried to hold her even closer, so desperate was the need that they not part for even a second.

Garcia was busy running her hand up his arms to clutch wildly at his shoulders, wishing she didn't need to breathe or pull her lips away from his devouring ones, but, gasping for air, she managed for a second. Then she glanced up, eyes flashing, for just a second to tease back, "I wouldn't worry about that," she purred, "I think your talents are completely up to par."

Morgan's gaze had gone fiery dark with desire – twinkling dangerously as humor mingled in with lust. "You think so, do ya, Kitten?" he murmured, sweeping her hair off her shoulder to attack her neck and nibbling the sensitive spot just below her left ear, hands mussing the silky blond strands as he held them out of his way. "Cause I don't think I'm done testing my limits yet."

This time, a throaty groan was the only answer her got, the very prospect of rendering her speechless spurring him on, her coat had already hit the floor when they started, now he was working with the hem of her shirt, ready to whip it up over her head. And that was when pain erupted in his shoulder again, freezing his arms in mid-motion and embarrassing him ridiculously. He absolutely could not raise his arms any further than straight out in front of him and the sudden shot of pain almost bowled him over for a second. There was nothing to say, and he couldn't seem to lift his eyes to meet hers.

There was one long, weighted moment; both of them panting, her hands on his face, her chest heaving, but other than that she was as still as if she'd frozen right along with him. Then, Penelope put her hand in his and she started tugging him along behind her, pulling him farther into the house. At the living room, still without a word, she led him to the couch, gently pushing against his chest until he sat heavily, still angry at his own weakness and refusing to meet her gaze.

"Derek, babe, look at me," she whispered, an achingly tender note in her voice. "Stop that. Get over yourself. You don't have to be in top form, superhero perfect all the time. Okay? You got that, Studmuffin? I _love _you. I'm crazy about you. There's nothing to be embarrassed about right now. We're fine. We're still here together. You're hurt like this because you saved my life. So don't be acting all ashamed and not looking at me. I won't have it." She reached out and turned his face up to meet hers as she spoke, making sure her point was taken.

He did finally look at her then, hearing the emotion and sincerity in her voice. And once he'd met her eyes again, the hurt and the disappointment seemed to fade away and he couldn't take his eyes off her. Reaching out to take her hand, he drew it to his lips and kissed her palm reverently, not finding anything to say.

Garcia knelt before him, scooting herself in between his knees, and she rested her forehead against his for a second, as if proving to herself that they were both solid and real and going to be fine. Then, she pulled back, seriousness gone as fast as it had come. "Now," she cooed, her hand slipping down to his chest and beginning to unbutton the shirt he wore. With each button, she kissed further down a path of newly bared, tautly muscled skin. Letting his head fall back against the couch, Morgan let her go, feeling his nerve endings crackle as she started setting them back on fire. Then, she was pushing the shirt completely open and pulling it off his arms, careful of his shoulder, but eager to get the job done. "I do believe I promised to do all the work tonight anyway." Her tongue flicked out, tracing along his sculpted pectoral, teeth grazing highly sensitized skin as her mouth moved down his torso, causing his stomach to tighten pleasurably this time. He sucked in a breath, feeling like he'd received an electric shock. His head shot up, having to watch her, mesmerized by her bright red fingernails brushing across his naked chest and stomach and then going to work on the drawstring of his sweatpants.

Before long, Penelope glanced up to find that Derek's eyes had gone slightly unfocused and his hands were clenched into the couch cushions as he very obviously fought not to beg her to keep going. Her expression was positively, impishly evil as she took him by the chin and turned his head back to face her, to make sure he was still hearing her. "Try not to let me blow your mind, Sugar," she grinned wickedly. "Enjoy the ride."

A muscle in his jaw worked as he gazed back at her, and he sat, riveted, as she proceeded to make good on her word…


	10. Chapter 10

(Hey all! Thanks so much for your patience in waiting for this update. I've just grown really attached to this story, and found myself reluctant to end it. I hope I haven't made you wait too long, and that you'll enjoy this final chapter. I've loved all the reviews and feedback and your support for this story. This is the end, but I'll be working to cook up something else soon, I can't leave Morgan and Garcia plot ideas alone for long, they're too much fun to work with!

_As usual, none of the characters belong to me, just my own story idea…)_

Come Back to Me

Chapter Ten

Hours later, snuggled down under blankets in bed, curled up contentedly next to Derek, Penelope Garcia smiled to herself, not sure when she'd last felt so happy. She thought that Derek would probably agree with her, as she watched him sleeping like the world didn't even exist; looking utterly spent, but wearing a smile on his slack, resting face.

Despite all that had happened to them in the last year – her kidnapping, and now Derek's getting shot and almost dying – she had never felt so safe as she did right now, lying in his arms, her body aligned and held close to his strong, steady form. She felt completely covered with a sated feeling of blissful peace that she couldn't even really describe.

She rolled over with a grin plastered on her face as well, savoring the sensation of her bare legs slipping through slick, satiny sheets. The two of them had moved to the bedroom after coming back down from their earlier escapades in the living room, and fallen into bed and gone to sleep tangled up together. It was still an amazing feeling, she had to admit, to drift off to sleep encased in the hard-muscled arms of a chocolate god who had turned her into putty, languidly trailing kisses over her collarbones, licking and nibbling, until he'd gotten her so relaxed she'd had no choice but to pass over into the most pleasant, dreamy sleep she'd ever had.

Wrapping her arms around him, she snaked her hands up over his warm skin to scratch her fingers lazily across his back, causing him to shudder in his sleep and pull her even closer. Murmuring incoherently, he sounded to her liked he was making the happy purr of a contented tiger.

She didn't want to wake him; he was still recuperating after all – but she was feeling playful this morning, ready to tease and kiss and cuddle him, and she couldn't help at least touching him as much as possible. That they could be lying here again, so easily, happily, and fine, made her feel incredibly blessed and lucky. Things could have turned out so much differently, and she knew in her heart that never having another morning like this with Derek would have been like having her life itself cut short.

Pondering all this, she was just leaning forward to see how much of his exposed skin she could kiss before she'd get enough of a reaction to wake him up, when his cell on the nightstand on his side of the bed started ringing, blaring into the peaceful quiet shrilly. She wanted to answer it quickly and stop its noise before it bothered him, but she found that she couldn't move. Morgan's arms around her were heavy with sleep and she couldn't get disentangled or reach his phone from where she was.

With a muffled growl, Morgan's arms left her body as he rolled to his other side to slam a hand down on the offending phone. As he stretched his arm across, Garcia actually had to catch her breath sharply at the sight of the muscles in his back rippling with the motion. Sometimes she was reminded once again just how insanely gorgeous he was, and she had to blink a couple times and pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming him there beside her.

"Morgan," he answered the phone gruffly, identifying himself, but not bother to hide his annoyance at being bothered so early by whomever was calling.

She had to bite back a giggle at his tone of voice, the caller certainly wouldn't miss that he wasn't in the mood to talk. She could sympathize with him being tired, healing, and wanting to sleep in, but personally, she was glad he was awake now. She wanted another go…if he was up for it.

"Yeah, Hotch, we're fine. Everything's great, other than the fact that Pen's probably gonna confine me to bed for the next week." He hadn't meant it the way it had come out sounding, but as he glanced over at her and then his eyes suddenly popped wide when she smirked and gave him a nod while licking her lips, she knew he'd realized the statement's double meaning. She also knew their boss well enough to know that he could pretty much sense what was going on with most people most of the time, and was probably shaking his head right now, having not missed the second way Derek's words could be taken. She could almost picture one of those rare smiles on Hotch's face for a moment. The mental image made her smile too, Hotch almost looked like another person when he allowed himself a genuine smile.

"Well, thanks…" she heard Morgan saying now, his voice sounding either curious or suspicious, as if he couldn't decide if checking up on his agents had been the only reason his boss had called or not. "Yeah, you too…take care." With that, he hung up and glanced over at her.

"Yes?" she questioned, quirking an eyebrow at him saucily as she propped herself up on one elbow to look back at him.

"You're trouble, Mama, you know that?" he chuckled, reaching out for her playfully. "Bad through and through."

She squealed when he got hold of her, pulled her to him, and flicked his tongue out playfully to a ticklish spot on her neck. "You're the one telling Hotch I've captured you in my bed," she gasped out, tucking her head to her shoulder trying to stave off the tickle torture. But her eyes were sparkling and his looked every bit as playful as he stopped with the licking just long enough to run his hands through her sleep-disheveled halo of platinum locks and then catch both her wrists in one large, capable hand and pin her arms over her head on the pillow.

The tickling turned to slow, pleasant torment as he began to idly take his time kissing down her naked body, from her ear, along her collarbone, making her shiver, to her chest, then her stomach. "I've got you right where I want you now," he murmured, purposefully driving her insane by going so slow. "Now you're gonna get it."

Garcia found she didn't really have a comeback, other than to let out his name on a low, voiceless whisper and beg him to keep going, a moan of pleasure and frustration in equal measure following as she squirmed to move what little she could and try to urge him on.

He chuckled, the noise coming from deep in his throat, not giving an inch or speeding up in the slightest. "You wanna laugh while I embarrass myself with the boss," he mock-threatened between slow, measured kisses, "then you've got to pay the price." For a second, he thought he had her beat, that he'd finally gotten the last word. Her eyes were wide and she looked like she was actually biting her tongue to keep from begging again. Then, on a ragged breath, she got one more shot in. "Yes, sir," she teased, if somewhat breathlessly, "since you seem to be feeling agile enough to dole out punishments this morning."

But it was then that he finally reached his destination and her eyes did roll back, her hands began to clench and unclench on the pillow and she didn't do any other talking other than crying out his name. Maybe at least he'd won this round, Morgan thought with a smirk as he sent her over the edge, returning the favor from the night before – and then some.

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

It was evening by the time they finally hauled themselves out of bed and into the kitchen, famished enough at last to leave the comfort of warm blankets and each other's arms for a while. Penelope, though not nearly the domestic goddess that she was computer wizard, was standing at her stove, clad only in an old football jersey of Morgan's that she'd snagged from his house at some point, managing to make them some scrambled eggs and toast. The jersey sleeves came down past her elbows and the rest of it landed about mid-thigh length; she had her hair piled messily up on the top of her head, and she was padding around the kitchen barefoot. Morgan couldn't help thinking that she had never looked more adorable, as he watched her from where he sat. The jersey had certainly never looked sexy on him like it did on her.

As she sat plates down for them both and sat next to him at the kitchen island to eat, she cocked her head, studying him curiously. "Hotch, just wanted to check and make sure everything was okay, when he called this morning?"

Morgan glanced back at her, and she sensed that whatever had been troubling him, weighing on his mind, back before his injury had happened, when they'd been leaving the BAU that night of the shooting, was there again. He merely nodded.

"And _is _everything alright?" she asked, concerned enough to push if she had to. Whatever it was, if it was still troubling him, it was time for them to deal with it.

When he began to speak however, she was relieved to see the look on his face clear, and she thought that maybe he was finally going to open up to her a little and let the weight he was carrying go. He took her hand and looked right into her eyes, capturing her in his stare. "Yeah, I think things are gonna be fine, Sweetness. It's just – I was holdin' onto stuff that wasn't mine to deal with…stuff I couldn't do anything about. I was worried about how we were gonna keep functioning without Gideon, wondering where he was or why he couldn't have talked to us instead of just taking off and disappearing. I was worried about Strauss and the other bigwigs trying to oust Hotch, and that the team really would fall apart if that happened. I was worried about Reid, that he wasn't taking Gideon's leaving very well, that he was withdrawing from us and hurting." He took a deep breath here, not used to talking about how he was feeling so much at once. "But when I woke up in the hospital…and all I could think about or care about was you, Pen…Were you still here? Were you alright? I knew I'd been carrying around too much baggage that wasn't mine and that I couldn't fix anyway. What's important is us. If you're beside me, and I'm taking care of you the best I possibly can, then anything else that comes along, we'll handle it. I can't do anything about Gideon being gone. We've just got to deal with that. And Hotch can take care of himself. We've just got to follow him and back him up, like always. And Reid – well, I finally really talked to him. Let all the guards down and just lay my fears and concerns for him out honestly one night while he was visiting at the hospital."

"And?" Penelope prompted.

"He was surprised, I think," Morgan said softly, reaching out to stroke his hand down her cheek lightly. "He didn't realize we'd been that genuinely worried for him. I think he was touched that we'd noticed and cared. He has been struggling since Gideon left. Probably felt like he was being abandoned by a father all over again. But he says he's made his peace with it, and I do think he seems more back to himself these last couple weeks. It was something he had to handle on his own and pestering, teasing, and trying to joke with him to mask my concern wasn't helping."

She nodded, resting a hand on his chest, looking at him with love written all over her face. "So he's okay then. And you are too?"

"Well, Reid did encourage me to get the one other thing that I've been mulling and fretting over off of my chest. He seemed to find it pretty funny that I hadn't worked up the nerve to discuss it with you yet."

He looked almost sheepish, which was an interesting expression for him, she thought. But now she was confused, her forehead scrunching up in thought. What concern did he have that involved her?

And then, it seemed he gave the answer to her before she could process it. Morgan was slipping off of the tall kitchen stool and, somewhat stiffly, getting down on one knee before her. Reaching into the pocket of the sweats he was wearing, he pulled out a small velvet box and she felt as though her heart might actually stop beating.

His eyes looked up to search hers, an expression of hope and anticipation on his face as he bit his lip for a second, collecting his thoughts before he spoke. His voice was suspiciously hoarse, and Penelope found she had silent tears pouring down her face before he even started, just from the sheer emotion that seemed to be radiating from Derek right then.

"Pen, Sweetness, my Baby Girl…I honestly never thought that I would be saying these words to anyone. Never in my life did I think I'd be getting down on one knee asking someone to marry me. I convinced myself a long time ago that no one was going to get in my heart; no one was going to know me enough to hurt me. I had some flings, but I never let myself fall. I didn't intend to let anyone that close. Then you came along and blindsided me. You were irresistible – I absolutely could not stay away from you. I was just going along, flirting with you and having fun, and didn't even realize that I was already long gone. It hit me right upside the head, and I was yours before I even knew it. It took almost losing you to make me see that I loved you – body and soul – in a way I didn't think I was even capable of. I've regretted and wondered a lot about how I could have been so blind, but it's not a mistake I've been willing to make since then. I think that at this point I wouldn't even know what to do with myself if you weren't in my life. I'd be lost. I want you beside me all the time, making me laugh, making even the worst things bearable. And when we aren't together, I'm counting the minutes 'til I get back to you. I'd protect you with my very last breath, and I'll never even begin to cherish anyone the way I cherish you."

He paused for a moment, bowing his head to kiss her hand, and then looked back up at her again to see her sniffling and nearly sobbing, but looking ridiculously happy and already nodding her head 'yes.' "Let me get the question asked, Mama," he teased lightly, his cheeks crinkling with the smile that lit his entire face. "Hold your horses."

Wetting his lips, he regained the serious composure he'd been holding before. "Penelope Garcia, make me the happiest man on earth tonight…accept this ring and be my wife. Will you marry me?"

Laughing and crying, and so happy she couldn't contain herself, Penelope slid off of her stool as well, still clutching his hand, and joined him on the floor as he pulled her into his arms. "Yes, yes, of course I will! Yes!" she kept repeating, raining little kisses all over his face as she spoke.

"Hey, hey," he laughed, relief and joy evident in his voice and on his face as he pulled away just a fraction to ask her, "Don't you want to check out your ring?"

"Sugar, I don't need to see the rock to know that you're the man for me. I've known I wanted to be with you every moment that I could since the first day that I met you. You've done more for me by asking and wanting to marry me than you could ever know," she answered, still grinning like an idiot and swiping rogue tears off her cheeks.

Morgan leaned in to kiss her deeply, holding onto her like the lifeline that she had become to him. If he could have his way, he would never spend a day apart from her again. And though he knew in reality that wasn't possible, just then he felt that she was his forever and that was enough of a wonderful feeling to make everything else fade away.

He opened the ring box and turned it to face her, taking the ring out to slide it onto her finger. It was distinctive; noticeable and unique, just like Penelope. He'd made sure of it, knowing it was the ring he wanted as soon as he'd laid eyes on it. The canary yellow diamond was set smoothly in a plain white gold band. And though it was plain, so as not to get in her way or snag things as she was working and moving her hands all over the place in that insanely fast, mesmerizing way only her hands had, it was a large stone and quite eye-catching. He'd known she'd like it.

She let out a gasp of surprise as she glanced down at her hand and got a good look at it. "Derek, it's too much!" she exclaimed, startled. It was perfect. Just what she'd have chosen if she had picked it out herself.

"No, Goddess, it isn't nearly enough. But they don't make enough karats to express just how much I love you and how much you mean to me. I consider it more than fair if I get to spend the rest of my life with you in exchange."

She shook her head disbelievingly as she finally tore her eyes back away from her engagement ring and lost herself in his gaze again. "Sometimes, Handsome, I'd swear you were perfect. You know I love you every bit as much, don't you?"

"That's hard to imagine," he teased, a challenge in his eyes. "I love you an awful lot."

"Oh, I think I can prove myself," she promised, her voice silky as she stood and pulled his arm, until he stood too and followed her lead. She led him back into the bedroom and lay down on the bed, beckoning for him to join her. "Come here and let me show you."

Never before had the love between them felt so strong, and they spent the rest of the night consummating the bond they'd have between them for the rest of their lives. The world outside continued turning, life went on around them, but for those few hours, they were left alone and untouched by it. There was nothing but the two of them, together in love, and neither of them wanted anything more than that.


End file.
